"Who'd have thought…" Clint said ten minutes later, smiling and shaking his head. "The Spiderman and Black Widow. Taken out by a runt sized horse."

Peter didn't respond. Strange had set the two of them on one of the sofas in the lounge, off to the side near their usual corner and had immediately confirmed Clint and Steve's diagnosis of an allergic reaction – almost certainly to the pony. Or more likely, to the pony dander. Since both of them had had no problems when it came to cuddling Jack, he knew neither of them were allergic to dogs – and they had video evidence that Peter had once had a cat in his house as a child, so they wouldn't need to worry about felines, either.

Apparently, it was just horses.

He'd produced a couple of syringes and had given both Natasha and Peter an injection and had then checked the gunshot wound on Peter's hip before the boy could rouse himself enough from his new misery to protest having Pepper and Natasha close by.

The injury wasn't as raw and red as it had been the evening that he'd been shot, but it wasn't healing very well, either, and Pepper, in particular, paled when she saw how serious it looked.

"What do we do, Stephen?" she asked, watching as Strange bandaged the wound heavily, and hitched the side of Peter's jeans back over the bandages.

"He's been too active," the doctor told her. Told all of them, really, since they were all watching the procedure. "It's not infected. He doesn't have a fever, and the wound is clean. But we – and mostly I mean me – have allowed him to be on his feet when he really shouldn't be."

"It was my birthday," Peter told him, somewhat groggily. The shot that Strange had given him was a lot more potent than a Benadryl tablet or two, and the boy and Natasha were both already feeling one of the more noticeable side-effects. "I wanted to spend time with everyone."

Strange brushed a hand against Peter's cheek – ostensibly to check for fever, but there was no hiding the affection in the gesture.

"I know. Which is why I allowed it – even though I shouldn't have. But the party is over, now, okay? I don't want you out of bed for the rest of this week – and the weekend. We'll give the wound a chance to heal, and see if we can get you back to school on Monday."

"All week?"

"Longer if we need to," he warned him. "It's going to depend on you keeping still and letting it heal."

"We can keep him in bed," Pepper assured him.

"It looks like they're both ready for bed, now," Steve pointed out, amused, noting that Natasha was leaning at a drunken tilt from her position beside Peter. "I'll take one of them."

"Take Natasha," Stephen ordered. "I'd rather Peter was carried between two people to avoid any pressure on his hip."

Rogers nodded and scooped Romanoff into his arms, easily. She didn't argue, which was another sign that the allergy medication was doing its thing and had her almost asleep. Or at least wiped out enough that she wasn't willing to chance walking to her quarters. Peter, on the other hand, was fighting the effects of the drug, and his constitution was enhanced enough to allow a final argument.

"I'm okay. I can walk."

"Not likely," Strange said, reaching for one of the boy's arms to help him to his feet. "Tony?"

"Yeah."

Stark moved to the other side of Peter, slipped his arm over his shoulder to take the weight from the injured side.

"What does he need, Stephen?" Pepper asked.

"Nothing. He's going to sleep the rest of the day."

"Company," Peter protested, still fighting the drug, but not the people around him. He loved them and trusted them and was already leaning against Tony and his doctor, allowing them to take his weight instead of putting it on his sore side. "I don't want to be alone."

It was selfish, and he normally wouldn't have said something, but the medication made him less reluctant to ask for what he wanted and he liked having people with him. Liked opening his eyes and seeing that someone was there. Not to wait on him or bring things that he couldn't reach, but it was a true statement that misery loves company. At least for Peter, it was. He didn't like to be alone when he wasn't feeling well. His parents had known it. May had known it. Even Ned knew it. Tony and the others were learning it.

"We'll find some company for you," Stark assured him. "Come on."

Pepper followed as they walked/carried Peter to his quarters and she went ahead of them to turn his blankets down on the bed. With a thought, the boy went from jeans and the sweatshirt he'd been wearing to a pair of pajamas in dark blue and soft enough that there wouldn't be any issue of scratchiness to annoy him and keep him awake. They helped him into his bed and it was Pepper who covered him, tucking the blanket around him.

"I'm going to go check on Natasha," Strange told them. "Let me know if he needs anything."

"We will," Tony assured him. "Thanks."

Peter wasn't asleep. He was still fighting the medication, and was trying to stay awake. It wasn't working all that well, but his eyes were open, at least. Pepper sat on the edge of his bed and brushed her hand against his forehead, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

"Did you have a good time at Lila's party?"

"Yeah. She loved the pony. It was a good present. Good idea."

"Did you see Nick Furry?" Tony asked, sitting next to Pepper.

Peter smiled, his eyes closing, finally. The little blonde brother to Jack had been excited by the pony and had learned immediately that chase the tail was not Peter Pony's favorite game.

"Yeah. He said to say hi."

That made Pepper smile over at Tony.

"I'd say he's falling asleep, hmmm?" she murmured, softly.

"Definitely."

"I'll stay with him in case he needs anything."

"I could."

"You can later."

"Want me to bring you anything?"

"My laptop."

"Tony?" Peter roused just a little. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah. Pepper's going to keep you company, though."

"Okay." He smiled. "She's pretty nice, huh?"

"Yeah," Stark winked at Pepper, who rolled her eyes, amused. "She has her moments."

"She's good at the mom thing," Peter mumbled. "I really love her."

Tony smiled, watching as Pepper searched for a tissue she didn't have and ended up wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"I really love her, too," he murmured, leaning around Pepper to brush his cheek against Peter's. "Go to sleep, okay? You need to get better."

The touch was Peter's downfall, and he sighed.

"Okay."

He stilled, finally succumbing to the medication coursing through his system, and Tony put his arms around Pepper, holding her close.

"He's right. You are good at the mom thing."

OOOOOOO

Steve was sitting on the edge of Natasha's bed when Strange walked into her quarters.

"Is she asleep?"

"Out like a light," Rogers reported. "It's nothing serious, is it? This allergy thing?"

"You're not allergic to anything?"

Steve shook his head.

"No. Never have been. You?"

"Poison Ivy." They knew that, first hand. "It's nothing serious. She'll itch until the medication clears the histamines in her system, but she'll probably sleep until evening – if not longer – and she'll feel better by then."

"Does she need someone to stay with her?"

"Probably not," Stephen said. "But I'll stay anyway. Just in case either of them have a reaction to the drug I gave them."

"How likely is that?"

"Slim to none."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will."

Steve left, and Strange settled himself beside Natasha's sleeping form. He had things to do, yes, but none of them were that important. He could spend a little time hanging out with his favorite Avenger.